


The Winchesters

by AudreyInTheUniverse



Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fox - Freeform, Fox Stiles, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 10:56:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8841856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreyInTheUniverse/pseuds/AudreyInTheUniverse
Summary: Stiles gets harassed by our favorite leather wearing, pie eating, impala driving hunters.





	

Stiles froze as he heard the sound of a guncocking, fox ears instinctively popping out despite years of Stiles trying to control them. The fox sat in his jeep, parked in the preserve, for a few minutes, listening intently. Once he had decided it was safe, Stiles let himself relax, retracting his ears and tail, which thankfully complied.

 

This time the click of the gun was right next to his ear, startling him enough to release his orange appendages and scramble over into the passenger seat, heart thundering.

 

“Get out of the car kid,” the man ordered, gun still pointed at Stiles.

 

“You scared the boy half to death Dean,” another man chastised, coming up behind the one with a gun.

 

“He’s not a boy Sam” Dean growled, “Now, get out of the car before I shoot.”

 

Stiles shakily climbed out of the car, his tail having curled around his waist protectively. By now he was far too panicked to even attempt to control his more primal side, but there didn’t seem to be a point anyways. The men had clearly seen him in all his foxy glory and had remained unphased, not even blinking twice.

 

“Jesus Dean, he’s barely a teenager,” Sam huffed, watching Stiles with sad, pitying eyes.

 

That couldn’t be good.

 

“If he was just a teenager, a boy, there wouldn’t be reports of animal attacks, now would there? Besides, he’s clearly an animal Sam, you can’t just trust everyone we come across, he hasn’t even shared his sob story!” Dean snarked, frowning at Stiles coldly, as if this were all his fault.

 

“My pack doesn’t have anything to do with those attacks,” Stiles defended weakly, making steady eye contact with his converses, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his red hoodie.

 

“A pack?” Dean groaned, “You mean there’s a whole nest of you?”

 

Stiles frowned at the way Dean sounded like he was talking about rats, “Yes, and you’re on their land, which according to our treaty with the Argents isn’t allowed.”

 

Dean scoffed at that, “We’re not Argents, meet the Winchesters kid.”


End file.
